closed
Who: breakspromises and opticscient
When: Let's say Saturday afternoon?
Where: Starting at the Door and moving to Patrol HQ.
Format: Your choice, Steph-mun! I'll start with paragraph but we can move to action, if you want.
What: Light accompanies Steph to Patrol HQ, intrigued that his former version's project's not doing so hot. Ulterior motives, "friendshipping" and Yagami Charm™ abound.
Warnings: I'm writing this log listening to this so really, who even knows.
Light had arrived a little early -- 10 minutes or so? nothing too excessive -- to investigate the Door. Real nice architecture, if shoddily looked after. When had it attained this power to pull people and objects from other worlds? Who had built it and when? Could it be destroyed? The stone felt normal enough under Light's hand: cold, hard, grimy. Some concentrated power and surely -- it could crack. Stuck in Anatole forever? Maybe that's what'd held people back....
Regardless, watching worlds shift and morph into other ones was like sticking your head in the window of those old washing machines and following your underwear as it spun, spun, spun around. You lost track of it; you found it again after a little high-speed I Spy.
Which is why Light wasn't doing it. He played with his wristwatch band as he waited for Steph. Only occasionally, he glanced to his side, wondered what parallel world was flashing past him.
[ ooc: Nearly 50 minutes and counting. Beat that. ]
When: Let's say Saturday afternoon?
Where: Starting at the Door and moving to Patrol HQ.
Format: Your choice, Steph-mun! I'll start with paragraph but we can move to action, if you want.
What: Light accompanies Steph to Patrol HQ, intrigued that his former version's project's not doing so hot. Ulterior motives, "friendshipping" and Yagami Charm™ abound.
Warnings: I'm writing this log listening to this so really, who even knows.
Light had arrived a little early -- 10 minutes or so? nothing too excessive -- to investigate the Door. Real nice architecture, if shoddily looked after. When had it attained this power to pull people and objects from other worlds? Who had built it and when? Could it be destroyed? The stone felt normal enough under Light's hand: cold, hard, grimy. Some concentrated power and surely -- it could crack. Stuck in Anatole forever? Maybe that's what'd held people back....
Regardless, watching worlds shift and morph into other ones was like sticking your head in the window of those old washing machines and following your underwear as it spun, spun, spun around. You lost track of it; you found it again after a little high-speed I Spy.
Which is why Light wasn't doing it. He played with his wristwatch band as he waited for Steph. Only occasionally, he glanced to his side, wondered what parallel world was flashing past him.
[ ooc: Nearly 50 minutes and counting. Beat that. ]